Who’s more creative, my dog or me?

My Pomeranian pup goes with me to my office every day. He loves being with me. However, he hates that I’m working. He thinks my office is a big playpen where he and I should be romping together all day. This puts more than a crimp in my creative juices. But what’s even more humbling is the fact that he’s more creative than I am. He’s mastered the art of diverting me, detaining me, and just plain preventing me from writing. Some examples: He lies across my keyboard, gazing up at me with adoring eyes (and erasing my last paragraph in the process). He plants his front paws (small but lethal) over my hands to keep them from moving on the keyboard. He shoves his head under my arm so that I’m cuddling him and my arm can no longer reach the computer. And, when all else fails, he whimpers pathetically, as if he hasn’t already received 24/7 attention and affection. The problem is, I’m a pushover. So he wins, I lose, and I wind up writing until the wee hours of the morning when he’s taking his nighttime snooze. Yet another reason why one book a year is my limit.